“Him!” Hi shouted dramatically.

“It adds up.” I shook my head, sliding facts into place. “Chance has plenty of spare time, and has been suspicious of us for months. Given everything he knows, following me isn’t the craziest thing in the world. Plus, he was at the art gala that night.”

“So the mystery car isn’t connected to the kidnappings?” Shelton asked.

I hesitated.

Surely Chance wouldn’t have anything to do with . . .

“No.” I dismissed the notion. “Looks like Chance was simply keeping tabs on me.”

“Because he knows too much.” Ben aimed a finger at me. “And you don’t seem very surprised, Brennan.”

I flinched. “Chance may have mentioned a few of those things at the aquarium.”

A bit guiltily, I told the boys about our showdown in the corner office. When I’d finished, they gaped at me, equal parts anxious and angry.

“How could you keep that from us?” Hi sputtered. “Chance knows about Karsten!? About Cooper!? He knows about the virus we caught!?”

“This is so, so bad,” Shelton moaned. “That punk could expose us at any time!”

“He’s a threat.” Ben had a look in his eyes that left me cold. “If Chance suspects we were infected, combined with what he’s seen this last year—”

“Calm down.” Trying to do so myself. “Chance doesn’t have all the pieces yet. He knows Coop was infected with XPB-19, and he knows we have the wolfdog. But that’s it.”

“You said yet,” Hi pointed out. “That implies he’ll put it together eventually.”

Deep breath. “Chance suspects we caught the supervirus. And given what he’s witnessed over the last year, I think he believes it affected us somehow. But he has no idea how,” I added quickly. “He doesn’t know the whole truth. And, most importantly, he can’t prove anything, or tell anyone. Not without exposing Candela’s involvement with illegal experiments. Which he obviously won’t do.”

“We’re supposed to trust Chance freaking Claybourne with our deepest, darkest secret?” Ben growled. “That’s the plan?”

“Give me some time to think it over,” I pleaded. “Come up with a solution.”

Ben fixed me with a dangerous stare. “Okay, Tory. But don’t take too long. I won’t have Chance running around, endangering my freedom. My life. He needs to be dealt with.”

I suppressed a shiver. Didn’t want to understand what Ben was implying.

“It’s time to jet,” Hi said. “People might start showing up here soon.”

I nodded, took a step toward the street.

For a brief moment, my thoughts returned to the spike of interconnectedness my mind had experienced. The frequency was increasing, the intensity escalating. Yet the attack—that’s what I was forced to call them at this point—came and went without warning. The onset seemed completely random. I couldn’t even guess at a pattern.

There has to be a trigger. Something that sets off the effect.

“Wait!” Shelton pointed to the rear of the Flying Tomato. “Almost forgot.”

“You found something?” My concern for Ella shifted back to the forefront. A deeper contemplation of Viral side effects would have to wait.

“Maybe.” Shelton led us back to the alcove. “I’m just trying to figure out what that is.”

On the ground between the folding chairs was a fist-sized chunk of red-orange rock. Pockmarked, misshapen, with a rough, bubbly exterior, the lumpy stone seemed oddly out of place.

Shelton knelt to scoop it up.

“Wait.”

I moved closer and dropped to one knee. Hi and Shelton snagged the chairs and set them aside, exposing the multi-hued rock to the morning sun.

I stuck my nose inches from the rock. It had an odd, sulfurous scent.

Something was stuck to the stone’s surface. A shiny filament, rising on the breeze.

Gently, my fingers extended, capturing the slender line. I held the wisp before my eyes.

A single hair. Black and glossy.

I carefully stretched the strand between my fingers. It was over a foot long.

Ella.

“We’ve got something.” My voice was steady, but my heart raced as I removed a plastic vial from my pocket. “Hiram, please grab a large plastic baggie from my evidence kit. It’s in the car.”

As Hi hurried off, I carefully inserted hair into vial. Then, dropping to my elbows, I examined every centimeter of rock I could see without touching it.

A tiny rust-colored oval marked the left side, with a thin streak descending from the center of the discoloration, as though made by a dripping liquid.

I didn’t need Coop’s nose.

“I found a hair. And maybe blood.”

Shadows fell across the stone. I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. “Anything else?”

Despite the circumstances, I smiled. “Just one thing. The green packet in my kit.”

I pulled on the gloves. When Ben returned, I opened the packet and laid out several items. After moistening the tip of the swab with a squirt of filtered water, I gently rubbed it against the stain. Then I removed a thin plastic strip from a white pill bottle.

“This is called a Hemastix strip,” I explained, “which contains the chemical tetramethylbenzidine. TMB for short. It’s like a dipstick test for human blood, and works better than Luminol on trace samples. Bottom line—if this strip changes color, it’s a presumptive positive for blood.”

“Presumptive?” Shelton asked.

“Best we can do. But with the hair attached, and this stain appearing on an out-of-place rock at a possible crime scene, I think that paints a pretty clear picture.”

“Any more toys you’re holding out on?” Hi grumbled. “I don’t know you anymore.”

“Thank Aunt Tempe for this one,” I replied. “She stocked my evidence kit. But an entire bottle of Hemastix strips only costs like thirty bucks.”

As precisely as possible, I rubbed the dampened swab against the yellow material at the end of the strip. In seconds the patch turned blue-green.

“Bingo.” I placed the used strip into a second vial. Then, nodding to Hi, I lifted the rock in my gloved hands and placed in the plastic bag. Sealed it tight.

Hi shook his head. “Man, Charleston has the worst cops in the world. How could they miss this?”

“It’s just an ugly rock,” Shelton countered. “I’m not sure why I noticed it.”

“So we take this stuff downtown?” Ben asked.

I was about agree, then stopped myself. “Why?”

This seemed to take the boys aback.

“What are we supposed to do with it?” Shelton countered. “The cops can run DNA tests, and figure out whether that’s Ella’s hair. And . . . blood.”

His voice faltered as the implications hit home.

“I know it’s hers already.” I had zero doubt. “And those tests won’t help us find her.”

Hi scratched his head. “Then . . . what?”

“The rock.” Ben’s eyes found mine. “We should track the rock, not the DNA.”

“What? That could be from anywhere,” Shelton whined. “The rock may not even be a clue. The kidnapper could’ve scooped it from a roadside ditch.”

“It’s all we have.” I stared at the bagged hunk of stone. “The police already know Ella was abducted. They don’t need DNA to confirm it. An investigation is already going full swing.”

Hi nodded slowly. “But if the rock can be traced to somewhere specific . . .”

“What about prints?” Shelton said. “If the kidnapper hit Ella with that, then—”

I shook my head. “Such a basic mistake? I don’t see it.”

“We can examine the rock ourselves first, then give it to the police,” Hi suggested. “No harm, no foul. Everybody wins.”

“Examine it how?” Ben cocked his head. “You mean LIRI?”

“With Kit and Hudson already on our case?” I snorted, packing up my kit. “Not a chance. Not after the video debacle. Plus, to learn anything that way we’d need the mass spectrometer, or the gas chromatograph. But you can’t even power those machines without a dozen permissions. We wouldn’t last five minutes.”

“Then let’s find an expert,” Hi said. “Some weirdo rock junkie who can eyeball this bad boy, and tell us what it is.”

I tapped my nose. “My thoughts exactly.”

Shelton’s face lit up. “CU has a geology department. We’re close to the campus, too. Maybe somebody’s working on a Saturday?”

“It’s worth a shot.” Zipping up my bag. “Let’s get moving. Today, there’s no time to lose.”